Break The Spell For Me
by Trapped Artist
Summary: The unspoken truths reveal themselves, the hidden feelings emerge to the surface. When Artemis finally embraces them, is it too late for both of them?


**So I guess kinda abandoned you guys and that was like so rude of me, but I honestly lost all my inspiration and couldn't write for ages.**

**And now I'm back!**

**With some, uh, angsty Traught.**

**This is for Catie, my lovely who gives me Robb Stark feels when I need them most. Also she draws SO GOOD.**

* * *

Gotham Academy. It's not exactly the place she wants to be at right now.

She's never felt like she's belonged here. With all the rich, snobby kids with nothing better to do but gossip about each other and talk about enormous amounts of money they've spent on latest fashion. Why does it matter if one has the newest Nike shoes or if their mom just bought a Vera Wang dress or if their dad is getting them a shiny new car which isn't exactly for driving but for showing off? She hates them. She hates them; not for being rich, but for having healthy families, and for being able to enjoy things that were never available to her, and for having sisters who don't fight them on rooftops every once and a while, and for having fathers who don't want to kill them.

Her eyes lazily find their way from the teacher to the blue clock on the wall. Nine-thirty. Last night she got home at five in the morning due to a mission. The ticking makes her sleepy every time she pays attention to it and in a matter of seconds she tunes out from the rest of the world. She leans her head on her hand, feeling the rough skin of her fingers and scars and pride for having them, and she drifts away in her thoughts, thoughts of what might have been, _could_ have been, happy thoughts …

"You sure seem a million miles away."

…until, of course, Dick Grayson breaks the spell.

Math class is the only period they share, primarily because he's a mathlete and is supposed to be in an advanced class._Her_ wonder _Robin_ is such a good detective – his mask does a great job at hiding the genius behind it. He usually sits in the first row and his black shaggy head is always somewhere in her line of sight. But right now he is next to her, gazing at her profile, taking in every detail he possibly can; from her golden locks to her frown to her full lips that occasionally twitch without her being aware of it.

"So what?" She growls and a smirk grows wide on his face.

"I was just wondering what you were thinking, that's all."

"Do you _really_ want to know that badly?" Her eyes find his, and for a couple of seconds they just glance at each other (well, it's more of a glare coming from her side), neither wanting to break it in this moment, that silent connection they've established. Not now, but years ago, back when they fought the Reds together, back when it was still all fun and games. It's their way of knowing each other's thoughts without the psychic link, but there are times, times like these, when gray eyes are impossible to read, almost emotionless and cold and distant.

"Yes," he nods, challenging her.

"Why does it matter?" Even if it _is_ Dick, she doesn't feel comfortable sharing everything with him. He knows about her more than anyone as it is, and sometimes it seems he knows more than she herself does, and it's something she simply can't allow.

He shrugs. "I'm just curious."

"And you're sitting next to me… why?" As usual, she's the first one to look away.

"Because I already know all this stuff."

She snorts and scribbles the formula into her notebook, ignoring the cockiness in his voice. His smirk cracks into a smile while watching her frown upon it, because he knows she'll be coming to him for help, no matter how hard she tries to figure it out on her own. She might look smart, chewing around her pencil and having a messy ponytail and a sheet of paper with everything neatly written. But he knows the person underneath. He knows the girl who once accidentally danced in front of him when she nailed a crook down and then looked at him, first puzzled then threatening; the girl who hates shoelaces so much because she always ties them too loose; the girl who can eat a lot more than her size shows it; the girl who's had his heart since he's met her.

* * *

The cave. It's the place she usually wants to be at, but not right now.

It's one of those rare places where she feels safe, and where she feels as a part of a family, a colorful one of four brothers and two sisters, a family of sidekicks, one might say, but they don't want to be called sidekicks. No. They're heroes too. They are all people who, by GA standards, wouldn't fit in just like her, because they have their own opinions and personalities that don't please everyone. The people who want to make a difference. They're good enough to her. Not because they're all she has, but because over the years they have proven to be better friends than she could have ever imagined. She's embraced their strengths and weaknesses and wits and tears just like they've embraced her.

But in this very moment, while she's pinned to the wall, she doesn't feel so safe. In fact, she's feeling rather distraught, because her friends aren't handling the situation at all, because Wally can't escape the embrace of a vicious plant, because M'gann is surrounded by fire, because she doesn't know where others are, because her father is coordinating the attack and the one who has his iron grip on her. Poison Ivy's laugh sends chills down her spine, having a much worse effect on her than Sportsmaster's whispers of so many ways to end her life in her ear, because for all she knows, Ivy could be killing Robin at this very moment.

* * *

The gym. The place she's been two hours ago.

She was angry. No, angry is not the right word. She was _furious_. Her muscles were aching and her heart was racing, but the pleasure with every punch she felt, the sweat trickling down her forehead and blurring her vision, the pain in every tissue of her being… It all helped clear her head, push the thoughts away, as far as they could go. While standing there, bent over the second punching bag she'd ripped open, trying to catch her breath, the doors cracked open and someone walked in, as light as a shadow. She smirked and closed her eyes.

"Let me guess. You're just curious."

"No," he replied, now standing right next to her. "I'm worried."

"Well, don't be." She removed a lock of hair from her eyes and wiped her forehead with the back of her uniform was sticking to her body even more now that she was all wet. "I need another punching bag."

"You can spar with me if you'd like."

She hesitated for a second, weighing the offer. _It would be good to have something that actually fights back_, but she risked opening up to him like she always did. A sigh escaped her. "You asked for it," she muttered. Her fist aimed for his chest, but he saw it coming long before she even thought about it. It was a failed element of surprise, and it was the only way Robin could be defeated. Without even moving, he grabbed her wrist just before the impact and pushed her back, and she stumbled barely keeping her balance. When she finally steadied herself, he was standing at the same spot, his face unreadable under the mask.

But Artemis wouldn't give up just yet. She tried to punch him and kick him and hurt him in many ways, but each time he would block or dodge her attack, without making an effort, as if she were a fly buzzing around helplessly, and it only made her angrier. "Why aren't you fighting back!?" Just like a punching bag. Except she couldn't rip him open, as much as she'd wanted, and she yelled in between, letting everything out, everything that ever bothered her, everything that remained silent.

"Are you… like that idiot West… who couldn't face me like a man either!?" A kick aimed at his ribs. "Linda Park… this," a punch at his shoulder, "Linda that," another kick, this time going for the head, "Linda… became his… fucking…_girlfriend_ today!" A break to catch her breath. "Do you know… what he said to me when I cut my hair… and asked him what looked different?" A desperate look in gray eyes. "He said: _Nice shirt, babe, blue really brings out the color of your eyes._"

By the time she finished, she was completely exhausted, her limbs feeling numb and her heart slowly steadying its pace and her face smeared with either tears or sweat, she didn't want to know. She looked at Robin, frightened, because she'd allowed herself what she dreaded most. He wasn't moving or showing any signs of being under her attack for the last fifteen minutes. He was just _there_, with a look on his face that she couldn't describe even if she wanted to.

* * *

At this moment, she hates Lawrence Crock more than people at her school.

* * *

Every word that came out of her mouth hurt more than any physical pain she could have inflicted on him if he'd let her. He _wanted_ to let her, but then nothing would be solved and they would be exactly where they were fifteen minutes ago and he couldn't bear his thoughts of her anymore. He was angry now too. Partly at Wally, for being an ignorant jerk, but mostly at Artemis, for letting this happen. He'd told her he loved her – twice. _Twice!_ And she took him for granted, both times, both times ripping his heart out and stepping on it ruthlessly. He couldn't really blame her for that.

The first time, he was thirteen, and told her how he felt, and watched her lie her way out of the situation, telling him that they were too young, that_he_ was too young. That time, it was that temporary crush on Zatanna that helped him get through the humiliation. And then, for his sixteenth birthday (not so long ago, actually), he went out with Barbara, and they drank, they drank _a lot_, and she managed to convince him that it was a good idea to call Artemis, and he did, and he laughed a lot, and he mumbled _I love you_ at some point, and then laughed some more, and the next day he apologized, and she waved it off, and looked at him strangely when he added jokingly _In vino veritas_.

And now… now she looked so helpless and vulnerable. And he didn't know what to do. Artemis was never the one to confront her feelings; she was never _able_ to do so. They just stood there, and she hugged herself and lowered her glance, and he couldn't do anything, he couldn't _think_ of anything. So he did the only reasonable thing.

The moment she looked up she saw a foot coming her way and she jumped, and she felt a sharp pain in the back of her head, telling her she'd lost a couple of hairs. "Robin, what the hell are you doing?"

He landed on his feet and his cape fluttered behind him, raising the dust. "You wanted to spar, didn't you?"

She smirked, suddenly not feeling so weary anymore, and leaped forward. But the sparring didn't exactly go as she thought it would. In one swift move, he twisted her arm behind her back and pulled her close, so close she felt his breath on her neck, and she could swear she heard his heart drumming, and she felt her own heart, and for a moment she was convinced they were synchronized, that they were one heart in two bodies. His voice was soft and quiet when he talked, his warm breath making the smallest hairs on her neck stand. She felt some sort of a pleasure – there was something in the way he was holding her, something about the way scabrous edges of his glove felt against her naked waist, something about… _him._

"Do you have any idea what you did to me when you cut your hair?" The amount of pain in his voice was unbearable. "Wally's my best friend, but he never deserved you, Artemis. He never… I… I knew that all along." He released her, and even though he didn't have a tight grip on her, in fact quite the opposite, she found herself fighting for air. "And yet, you turned me down. Twice."

"Robin, we were kids back then! And I had much more on my mind than a… _romance_! And-"

"Don't. Just… don't. But you like my attention, don't you?" He let out a bitter laugh. "You didn't want to lose me after that. That's why we became best friends. And I played along, even though it hurts like hell, Artemis. It hurts like hell."

She gaped at him for a couple of moments, her mind unavailable to form a straight picture. "T-then… why? Why not just leave me? You don't have to be my friend." The thought of them being no more than strangers scared her more than she would admit.

"How could I ever leave you when I love you more than my own life?"

* * *

_"Hahahaha! No! Barbra sshshut up! Tis ! Hahaha! I-Imcallingbecause- Barbra why am I calling? Oh oh yeah! Artemis, I lo-yo-ohmygod is that- What? Oh. Hahahaha no no it isn't! Anywho, I love you, Mis! Like, a lot! Sweet dreaaaams"_

* * *

She sat down on the hard floor to take it in. All this time… she was ignoring him. Was she really that blind? No, of course she wasn't. She just _chose_ to ignore his feelings because she was selfish, and because she was happy with Wally, and because her relationship with Dick Grayson was supposed to be platonic. Somewhere in between, he got taller and his muscles were more defined and his cheekbones started to annoy her and those blue eyes were somehow brighter. Now it occurred to her that she still had that call saved on her phone. There was no way she could deny anything he'd said. She didn't even want to try. He sat down next to her and crossed his legs and played with a loose thread on his costume.

"That night, when… when you called me," she started, her eyes fixed on a crack Conner once made in the wall, "my dad… he was there. And he, uh, he and my mom were arguing and it got really heated, I… I don't think they knew I was there, not that it would make a difference." A long pause. "Grayson, what I'm about to tell you doesn't leave this room. _Ever_."

His chuckle surprised her. It was almost like old times. "You have my word, 'Mis."

"I was crying." She remembered it like it was yesterday – the yelling in the kitchen, the crash, the red bug on her wall, the smell of urine coming from the street. "My phone rang. I waited until it switched to voicemail and then… Then there were you. Laughing and talking so incoherent and you were making such a fool out of yourself that I had to cover my mouth so I wouldn't alert anyone with my laughter." She snickered and turned her head at him. "So there-"

Years and years of training were not enough to prepare her for what came next, and she wouldn't want it any other way. It started off tenderly, his lips gently pressed against hers, and she closed her eyes, relaxing completely. His hands were suddenly on her waist, pulling her closer to his body, and their lips crashed, his tongue slipping into her mouth, and her nails were digging into his back as she returned the kiss with equal amount of passion. She felt heat spreading through her entire body, but it wasn't the heat that she'd feel after a long training – oh no, it was that internal fire she liked a little bit too much.

The crash they heard in the distance wasn't enough to break them apart.

But the scream was.

* * *

The Wayne Manor. There's no place she'd rather be at.

Dick is happier than he ever was. His eyes have a certain spark in them when he's talking to her, and it makes her happy. Because they've both found what they were looking for. And now they're in his room, and he is showing her math, and since she really isn't into it, all they do is make out on his bed and laugh and eat. The cookies Alfred brought are now cold and tasteless because they're meant to be eaten when hot, but it doesn't stop them from leaving crumbs all over her notes and attempts of math. At some point she starts to understand, but the moment is lost when he pulls her into another kiss and in her head all the formulas blend into each other and make no sense.

That would most certainly happen if she actually _were _at the manor.

"So, baby girl, who's gonna save you now?"

His laughter makes her sick and she feels her last meal coming up in her throat and she shuts her eyes and attempts to swallow it back down. She can't afford to look weak in front of him. Not now, not ever. He pulls her by her hair and suddenly she's on her knees, biting her tongue so she won't scream out of anger and pain and humiliation. He walks around her like a lion hunting his prey, except she is already caught, and now the lion is looking for ways to eat her. She's tired. Maybe this is all just a nightmare. Maybe she'll wake up any minute and she'll be in Dick's arms and all of her worries will be gone and she'll get a happy ending.

The words echo in the back of her mind as she receives a slap across her face. _Or not._

* * *

**Don't hate me please?**

**On the bright side, there will be a sequel. And I will update the Robin Hood fic. Promise!**

**I really really hope you liked it, I tried so hard to make it work.**

**But I think I tried too hard...**

**~TrappedArtist**


End file.
